I Didn't Ask for a Bleeping Miracle
by WaiiKitsune
Summary: Or, in which there is an ambush, Tsuna is tired, Reborn is pissed and somehow, there's still a happily ever after. Sort of. R27 one-shot. Mild language warning and implied(-ish) sexual content (check in-fic warning).


**Title: **I Didn't Ask for a Bleeping Miracle

**Summary: **Or, in which there is an ambush, Tsuna is tired, Reborn is pissed and somehow, there's still a happily ever after. Sort of.

**Disclaimer: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn! belongs to Akira Amano

**Pairing: **R27

**Warning: **Major OoC-ness (because pissed-off!Tsuna is, well, pissed off and slightly on the maniac side and Ryohei is sick of people having sex in his med wards) and language warning (mostly in the form of bleep and bleeds). Set post-KHR, ~TYL. Also, a probably illegal amount of parenthesis. And copious amount of snark. Oh, and there's also implied sexual contents. (I'm kidding, it's not implied. It's just not explicit.)

* * *

**I Didn't Ask for a Bleeping Miracle**

* * *

Tsuna was well aware that it was entirely his fault that he was in this situation to begin with.

In his defense, he was currently feeling rather pissed off (and more or less in a restricted-murderous state), so technically, his opponents are actually the ones at the disadvantage despite their overwhelming numbers. (Because anyone with a working, sane mind would know to beware of pissing off the nice ones because it was as good as declaring your desire to end your life, and Sawada Tsunayoshi, despite being the Tenth Don of Vongola, was basically one of the nicest human beings on Earth.)

So how did all of this happen? Why was Tsuna in this situation? What in Primo's name was this 'situation' to begin with?

Simple, really.

It all started with a bloody _**miracle**_.

(_Aka._, some low-leveled henchmen got a one-in-a-gazillion-chance lucky shot and managed to hit Reborn, the _greatest hitman in the __**entire world**_, in the shoulder of his dominant side while the two were out on a **date**—which was, in itself, a rarity to begin with, thank you very much.)

To say that Tsuna was pissed off was probably the understatement of the century.

The trio of henchmen were quickly taken care of (the Don Vongola actually felt _insulted_ that this opposing Family only sent three _**henchmen**_ to try assassinating him—he was the head of one of the _strongest Mafia Family_ for Primo's sake; he deserved at least a competent assassin or even an entire squad of ambush, not these three sad excuses for Mafiosi), and the Vongola Cloud Guardian was called in to clean up the mess while Tsuna rushed back to the Vongola estate with the snarking hitman (because no injury—_'scratch'_ as said hitman insisted—could keep Reborn from snarking at his former-student-turned-lover).

It took barely a minute to get Reborn into the medical ward of the estate and even _less_ to sedate him (because the _**one **_thing Reborn _agreed_ with the rest of the Family on was that it was a _really _bad idea to argue with the boxer with a medical degree, seeing as he could both save you and kill you) and soon, Ryohei had the hitman healed and resting in the ward. Still, the repeated reassurance that Reborn was absolutely fine did little to cool Tsuna's still-boiling temper. So the Vongola Decimo proceeded to make one of the best decision of his life (not).

He decided to walk off his anger.

The only problem?

He forgot the world hates him sometimes. (…Scratch that; the world hated him _most of the time_.)

Tsuna wasn't that far out of the estate (he took a moment to both appreciate and curse said estate's location in the middle of _nowhere_) when he found himself surrounded on all sides by—much to the brunet's secret delight—more appropriate looking Mafiosi. A quick glance told him he was probably facing thirty, maybe close to fifty Mafiosi. A closer inspection confirmed that they were from the same Famiglia as the three henchmen from before. The Vongola Decimo almost grinned, pulling on his woolen mittens as he quietly shifted into his Hyper Dying Will mode, revealing in the comforting feeling of the soft wool morphing into solid metal and leather. Warm amber orbs watched the shifting crowd around him carefully. (A small part of him couldn't help but mock the Mafiosi for not attacking him while he was still in the midst of channelling his inner Hibari Kyouya. Seriously. It's like, Villain 101 for Dummies.)

Then, as Tsuna's lips twisted into a predatory grin, he moved.

In the blink of an eye, the brunet had already sped behind an unsuspecting Mafioso, knocking him out with a flick of his wrist. The Mafioso dropping unconscious to the ground finally snapped the crowd into movement. Flame weapons lit up with their respectively coloured flames as the gunshots rang out almost continuously in the clearing.

Tsuna smirked as he dodged and retaliated, barely even flinching as the bullets and attacks ripped his clothes and tore his skin. (A small part of his mind that was still rational pointed out his own stupidity at leaving his cloak back at the estate.) He was _enjoying _the battle, in a way that would probably make his Cloud Guardian proud. Adrenaline pumped through his blood, keeping him on the move, while his Dying Will flames, tainted by his anger, dulled the pain from his injuries down to a minimum.

He was down to the last dozen Mafiosi when his Guardians finally showed up right behind his snarling animal partner (clearly displeased at the sheer stupidity of his master's actions). Half-mirroring his master, Natsu howled at the approaching Mafiosi, blowing them back with harsh Sky flames while Gokudera and Yamamoto took care of the rest. Ryohei rushed over to their boss, who had collapsed with a tired grin.

"You guys are… sooooo late." Tsuna chuckles (he vehemently denies _giggling_). "I was almost done."

"Tsuna, please, _zip_." Ryohei instructed as he checked the injuries.

Tsuna pouted and sulked dizzily, the words he was about to speak dying on his lips as his vision blurred and his body swayed. He dimly heard the calls of his name, as well as a pained howl, but Tsuna was already losing the battle of consciousness and soon fai—passed out (because badass Vongola bosses with enough power to make someone disappear off the face of the Earth do not _faint_).

* * *

Tsuna felt the murderous intent directed at him before he even fully awoke. Deciding he was going to die either way, Tsuna decided to keep his eyes shut as he (not-so-discreetly) eavesdropped on the ongoing conversation.

"…fine. He just over-exerted himself."

"Over-exerted?"

"Apparently, he was having a bit too much fun with the ones that ambushed him. So he used a little too much flames."

"And he was _**alone**_?"

(Tsuna took a moment to take joy in the fact that he was probably not going to be the only one to die. He gleefully ignored the rational voice at the back of his head remaking at he would die the _most terrible_ death.)

"He said he was going for a walk. We didn't know he would go—… Sorry, Reborn. We should have known better."

"I'll deal with you later. Dame-Tsuna, you have two seconds to cut that pathetic act before I shoot you."

In the two seconds it took for Tsuna to open his eyes (and three more to clear the sleep from his vision), the trio of Guardians who were getting a tongue lashing from Reborn had ducked out of the room, leaving a rather sheepish Vongola Decimo and a very pissed hitman behind.

"Umm… Hi?"

The single arched eyebrow told him the former Arcobaleno was _not _amused.

Tsuna sulked, "Well, it's not even completely my fault!" He snapped. "Those three idiots who shot you are! Didn't we already have a PSA about how it is _not _polite to shoot someone while they're on a **date**?! Hell, do they even know how bloody _rare_ that I actually manage to go on a proper date? It takes all the blessings of Vongola's founders for me to finish my paperwork faster than my Guardians can produce them _**and **_for you to _not _be on a mission at the same time! The occurrence is so extraordinary that we might as well have been waiting for the _stars and planets to __**align**_!" Tsuna barely paused to breathe as he continued on. "And let's not even talk about that lucky shot. It's a one-in-a-gazillion chance shot and they actually managed to _hit you_. One. In. A. _Gazillion_. Chance. And it _hit_. That's about as hard as getting said stars and planets to _align_. And you know, I might actually be less pissed if they were _actual __**competent **_assassins. But _nooooo_. They can barely be called henchmen and they. _Hit. __**You.**_"

"…Tsuna."

The voice was soft compared to the brunet's gradually increasing voice, but, as always, the firm voice managed to cut through the haze of Tsuna's mind. The Vongola Decimo swallowed thickly, his throat tightening as he felt the prick of tears in the corner of his eyes.

"…No one would shoot _you_. You know they sometimes call you the Reaper, right? No one is stupid enough to shoot _**Death**_." Tsuna mumbled. "They weren't aiming at you. They were aiming at _me_. You… **shielded** me."

"Dame-Tsuna. I'll always protect you."

Tsuna turned over so quickly, Reborn briefly pondered if the man might have snapped his neck in the process. The hitman lowered his gaze, turning to the side. Try as he might, Reborn couldn't completely fight down the slight colour in his cheeks.

"It's part of my job to protect Vongola Decimo." Reborn corrected himself stiffly.

"Vongola Decimo have Guardians whose jobs _are _to protect him, thank you very much." Tsuna retorted snappily.

The greatest hitman in the world resisted the urge to groan _or _slap himself with a palm, as his eyes flashed with annoyance. "Dammit, Tsuna. You know what I—"

"We agreed on this! When we're out, we'd drop—"

"—Of course I knew that!"

"_Really_? Because it sure didn't seem like it!"

"God_**dammit**_, Tsuna!"

"Don't—_mmph—_"

They had been inching closer from the edge of their respective beds during the shouting match, and Reborn finally closed the distance between them as he crushed their lips together in a bruising kiss while pushing Tsuna down in his bed. A strangled moan left the brunet at the sheer force of the kiss and Reborn wasted no time in deepening the connection. The hitman shifted on the bed, nudging a clothed knee between Tsuna's sprawled legs as he ground their lower bodies together.

Tsuna gasped as his mind finally caught up with reality and, ignoring his inner thoughts' pleas of how _good _it felt, the brunet summoned just enough strength to push against the solid chest pressed against his. Reborn scowled as the insistent pushing, breaking away with a snarled, "_What_."

"Y-Your injury…!"

Reborn growled and reported, "Through-and-through. Ryohei already patched it up. Only muscle damage, physical therapy will fix it." With a smug smirk, the hitman added, "Besides, even if there _is _something wrong with my shoulder… aren't you forgetting something important, Dame-Tsuna?"

"…a-and what would that be?"

Reborn grinned predatorily as he leaned in to whisper, "I'm ambidextrous. So you can give up on any thoughts of trying to top."

Tsuna shuddered against his lover, a sheepish-looking blush spreading across his cheeks. (He was, of course, worried about Reborn's shoulder, first and foremost, but he would not lie that thought of taking 'advantage' of the "situation" _did _cross his mind.) Reborn chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest.

"Now then, if that's all…" The hitman leaned in again, only for Tsuna to push against him once more. "What _now_?"

"We're going to talk about this later." Tsuna spoke in his 'Vongola Decimo' voice. Reborn rolled his eyes; he hadn't expected any less of his former student. "One more thing… We're… in _here_?"

"Unless you want to do it in the hallway for everyone to see?" Reborn drawled, smirking at the bright red blush that bloomed almost immediately on Tsuna's face. "Well now, I didn't expect you to have a thing for exhibition, Tsuna." He couldn't help but snicker at the indignant splutters coming from the Vongola Decimo. "We're already on a bed. I'm not crossing half the mansion just to get back to our room to have my way with you. So yes, we're doing in right here and now; deal with it." Reborn stated matter-of-factly. "Oh. And don't think I've forgotten about your act of stupidity. Get ready to be punished, Dame-Tsuna."

_(And they lived happily ever after.)_

* * *

**Bonus!**

* * *

Ryohei's actions after retreating from the ward that Tsuna and Reborn shared were simple.

He headed back to his own office in the Vongola estate's medical center, put on his trusty pair of sound-cancelling headphones (the wards are all soundproofed, so there was technically no need for sound-cancelling headphones to begin with, but overtime, that pair of headphones became a signal to Ryohei's subordinates that he had work he _had _to clear before Reborn murdered Tsuna because of him) and began to work on his backlog paperwork.

Two entire hour later, he cleared up the bulk of his paperwork and decided that it was probably safe enough to check on his boss and dear friend.

He was wrong.

The second the door cracked open, Ryohei was treated to the sound of the bed frame thumping against the wall, not to mention the moans of a certain hitman's name and what was unmistakably the (slightly wet) sound of flesh slapping against each other.

The former boxer twitched.

What the bloody hell was with his family and their constant desire to have angry reunion sex in _his _medical wards. They all have their own room in the estate, for Primo's sake. Why did he have to suffer through the puppy-looks of whichever poor subordinate of his that had to clean up after them and, more importantly, the mortifying realization that he had walked in on them having sex so many times that he _didn't even feel surprised anymore_.

Sasagawa Ryohei loved his adoptive little brother and is more than willing to give up his _life_ for the brunet, but at times like this, the Vongola Sun Guardian sincerely regretted his life choices.

And so, with a deep groan (that he was absolutely sure both of the preoccupied patients heard but was ignoring in favour of the more pressing activities they were currently engaged in), Ryohei slammed the door shut and proceed to the Vongola Guardians' designated gym to decimate another dozen or so punching bags.

Paying for the replacements was the least the Vongola Decimo could do, given all that Ryohei put up with on a daily basis, after all.

* * *

A/N: This fic was a bit of a train-wrack, in hindsight. I planned for all the snark at the beginning, but somehow the tiny bit of feels crept in. But hey, it gave a bit more incentive for angry make-up sex. Actually, I hope it was snarky. Or, at least humourous enough to bring a smile to your faces?

Thank you for reading as always~ That's all for now. Ciao Ciao~

(Note: again, since there was no explicit stuff going on, I left it as T-rated, but if you feel that I should bump it up to M-rated, let me know.)


End file.
